This Moment
by TheGethhaveacrushonme
Summary: kmeme fill - Miranda and femShep have feelings for each other, but, both being stubborn, haven't acted on them so far. During shore leave they have an argument, whereupon Miranda vanishes for a while, and Shep falls asleep waiting for her. A little fluff, a little smut, lots of talking, the usual.


She couldn't help smiling. She couldn't help smiling, and that was a bad sign. Idiotic hormones. This was neither the right time, nor the right place, and most definitely not the right person.

And yet, she had that stupid grin plastered on her face whenever Shepard was around.

And Shepard seemed to be around a lot, lately.

But then, the woman was her commanding officer. She didn't need much of a reason to come to her office. And the fact that Miranda thought it might mean more was just her stupid brain drowning in hormones, entertaining inappropriate, highly unprofessional thoughts.

She didn't even like women that way. She was just amazed by Shepard, that had to be all, she'd come to respect her a lot. She was deeply grateful, too, after the Commander had helped with Ori. Shepard was... nothing like she'd imagined.

And it wasn't as if she hadn't seen the Commander kiss Dr T'Soni when they'd been on Illium, anyway.

Besides, Shepard didn't trust Cerberus. She just couldn't understand. She kept pissing off the Illusive Man any way she could, and she was always angry after debriefings. A quiet kind of angry. If she had shouted, Miranda could have dealt with it, but this...

In the beginning, that anger – or was it rather disappointment? - had been directed at her a lot, too. But lately that wasn't the case anymore, and it made Miranda wonder who had changed – she in Shepard's eyes, or she herself (had she? She had to admit, sometimes she wondered where exactly her loyalties lay), or maybe both of them.

She heaved a sigh and let her head fall back against her deskchair.

"Looks like you need a break, Miranda."

Miranda's head snapped forward again.

"Shepard!"

And there it was again, like gravity had done the strangest thing and was pulling the corners of her mouth apart and up. Disconcerting, really.

"What can I do for you?"

"I've decided the crew needs a bit of downtime before we try and get that Reaper IFF. They all deserve it. We're heading to the Citadel and everyone gets to do what they want until tomorrow evening."

Miranda nodded slowly.

"That sounds acceptable. Thanks for telling me, I'll just write a small note to the..." She stopped herself, seeing Shepard tense.

"Really, Miranda, is our shore leave of interest to him?"

"Protocols, Commander," she said lowly, looking at her screen rather than Shepard.

"Well, in any case, most of us will be going for drinks at the Dark Star in the evening. Around eight, Citadel time. Just in case you're interested in coming, and you have nothing better to do..."

There was something oddly like hesitation in the woman's voice and Miranda turned her gaze back to her, but she just looked perfectly normal.

"I'll be there," she said.

. . . . .

Shepard saw Miranda out of the corner of her eye, and let her gaze swerve briefly towards her second in command, smiled at her, before focussing her attention on Tali again, who was a little very drunk already, courtesy of turian liquor that apparently was so strong it didn't even need filtering.

Miranda sat down next to her, and Shepard could feel the tension all around, from Garrus, from Miranda, even from Tali in her alcohol-addled state.

She was suddenly glad Jack had declined.

But then there was a "Boo!" and Kasumi appeared out of thin air, effectively breaking the awkward moment, to Shepard's relief.

"Will Jacob be joining us?" she asked blatantly.

"He said he'd be here later."

"Oh, good. Where's the rest?"

"Thane is spending time with his son."

"Oh, good for them!" Kasumi said sincerely.

"Mordin and Samara apparently don't drink and have more important things to do."

"Spoilsports!"

She hadn't asked Kelly. She made her feel uncomfortable.

"Grunt is too young to drink! No, seriously, he wanted to look at the Citadel and spend some money on weapons. And Zaaed just went off doing lord knows what. I didn't ask."

"Wouldn't you rather spend downtime on Illium, Shepard?" Tali asked with a smirk audible in her voice.

"Liara is a very busy woman," she replied evasively, forcing herself not to turn her head and look at Miranda as she said it. "She made that very clear."

"Don't worry, Shepard, she'll come around," Garrus said, sounding very confident about it.

She could feel Miranda next to her shift.

"Let's not talk about this right now, okay?"

"Oh look, it's Jacob!" Kasumi waved, and Jacob walked over, sitting down a little awkwardly between Kasumi and Miranda, which Shepard figured had mainly to do with the way Kasumi was fawning over him. Eventually Garrus took pity on him and started a conversation about weaponry. Garrus wasn't overly comfortable with the 'Cerberus people', but a fellow soldier still was a kindred spirit. Kasumi seemed a little put off for a moment, but then she turned to Tali and they soon started putting their heads together, whispering and giggling like little girls, and looking at the two men every now and then. Shepard shook her head, but smiled.

Then she turned to Miranda, who, in spite of her cool demeanor, looked rather out of place, if you knew her well enough to see the signs, the way she pressed her lips together the slightest bit, posture more stiff than usual.

She turned to Shepard and gave her a guarded look, and Shepard had the sudden urge to reach out and run her thumb over the small wrinkle between her brows, smooth it out.

"Have you heard anything from your sister lately?"

That did the trick. The frown dissipated and Miranda smiled at her, that small, gentle smile she'd seen a lot lately, and that was nothing like the cool, detached mask Miranda usually presented to the rest of the world. I made her look so very beautiful, and something inside Shepard's chest fluttered every time it was directed at her.

"I've come up with a safe connection for messages. Not if it's used too often, but once a month should be fine for now. She's mainly telling me she's doing fine and how her studies are going, and I just tell her I'm fine. I am glad you made me talk to her, Shepard. She's an adult, she needs to understand about... about our father." A shadow seemed to move over her face at the word.

"And perhaps it doesn't hurt to know that she has a big sister who's been a guardian angel to her ever since she'd been a baby. Maybe you also deserve to have a little something in your life that isn't work."

"It's not about what I deserve."

"You read that message she sent me?"

Miranda made a movement that was half shrug and half nod, but smiled again.

"I didn't expect anything else. In any case, you know she cares about you. She wants me to keep you safe. But I don't think you need that. You can do that yourself."

Miranda raised her eyebrows, then said: "Cheers to that,"and took a gulp from whatever that longdrink she was having was. Shepard raised her own beer and drank.

"Anyway, what about you?" Miranda asked after a moment.

"What about me what?"

"Do you have something in your life that isn't work? What about you and Dr T'Soni?" Her tone was perfectly neutral. It was Shepard's turn to frown now.

"I died. I was gone for two years. We were together for only a short time. Truth be told, I don't have the capacities to figure this out as long as we're on this mission. If we survive, I... I don't know."

"I shouldn't have asked."

Shepard shook her head.

"It's fine." She rubbed her forehead, then gave Miranda a small smirk. "We're not good at small talk, are we?"

"That's because we both usually have more important topics to talk about and don't waste time with trivial things."

"Ha! Cheers to that."

They watched Kasumi eventually drag Jacob off to dance and Garrus trying to talk Tali out of ordering more drinks. Shepard chimed in on occasion, but Miranda still gave her the impression that she was feeling entirely out of place.

"You know," Shepard said softly after a while, "it doesn't have to be like that."

Miranda raised those perfect eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to keep your distance like that. You don't have to be this lonely. You could be friends with everyone here, if only..."

"If only I quit Cerberus?" Miranda asked in a dangerously cold voice.

Shepard just couldn't help herself.

"Yes. Exactly that. Think of all the advantages. You wouldn't have to defend every horrible thing Cerberus has ever done for fear of devaluing yourself, for example."

"I defend Cerberus because I believe in what it stands for!"

"Seriously? Thorian creepers, thresher maws, racchni? Abducting little children, experimenting on them, letting them die by the dozen?"

Miranda was visibly bristling with cold fury.

"Don't start on Jack again! She was out of control. Bursting into my office, threatening me..."

"I know. I know you felt threatened and backed into a corner, and that's the only reason I didn't take her side entirely."

"I did not come here to listen to you lecture!"

Shepard wanted to say she was sorry, but she couldn't. Because something inside her needed Miranda to see who she could be, and that she didn't have to defend Cerberus like her life depended on it. Because she was smart and strong and brave, and it was such a waste that she was working for the Illusive Man. Shepard had thought a lot about Miranda lately. More, perhaps, than was justified by professional interest. After everything she had told her, after everything she'd seen, Shepard had come to a few conclusions. The most important was that she had been young and on the run when the Illusive Man had recruited her, and that he had been able to give her both safety and the kind of confirmation of her own value she had been starving for. It was sad and infuriating that she didn't realize she didn't need anyone but herself for that. And Miranda actually believed she was more than just a highly skilled pawn for Cerberus, but Shepard figured she had the measure of the Illusive Man much better than her. She was worried, very worried about what would happen should Miranda ever outlive her usefulness in the eyes of that man. The fact that she was still loyal to him in spite of everything they'd seen was unbearable for Shepard.

"You're better than this, Miranda, and you know it!" she said heatedly.

"No, I'm not! I'm really not, I'm not you! Dammit. This was a bad idea." Miranda got up abruptly, turned and walked out of the club.

"What did you do to piss her off?" Garrus asked after a moment.

"The truth is a terrible thing," Shepard muttered, then shook her head. "Do we need to get Tali back to the ship?"

Garrus gave Tali a quick look. She was lying with her head on the table.

"I think that would be for the best. Can we leave Jacob to Kasumi's mercy?"

Shepard looked around, but couldn't see them anywhere.

"They're adults and he's a soldier. He'll be fine."

They both put one of Tali's arms around their shoulders and dragged her off to a transport stand.

"This thing between you and Miranda... do you think that's a good idea?" Garrus asked lowly during the ride.

"There is no thing," Shepard said quickly, blushing a little.

"I'm asking as a friend here. She's just..."

"Cerberus?"

"Well, yes. Exactly. She isn't quite as snobbish as she used to be, I'll give her that."

"She doesn't know any better. Ugh, listen to me. I sound so patronizing. No wonder I pissed her off." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm not ever going to be Cerberus, if that's what you're worried about."

He laughed at that.

"I am not. I'm worried about your heart being broken. I worry about her betraying you."

"She wouldn't. No, I know that, Garrus. That's not what you have to worry about. Really."

His mandibles clicked several times, then he bowed his head slightly.

"If you're sure about it."

"And anyway, I don't even think she's interested."

"Keelah, Shepard, course she is..." Tali slurred all of a sudden. "I... I know about body language, alright? Alright? She wants you! Cerberus bosh'tet."

Shepard honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

. . . . .

Once they'd gotten Tali safely into her sleeping pod and Garrus had gone off, probably to calibrate something, Shepard took a shower, then fed her fish for lack of anything else to do, wishing she'd bought herself another model ship.

It took her about ten minutes of sitting on her bed, staring at her fish tank, to decide she should probably apologize. So she made her way down to the third floor and entered Miranda's office with what she hoped was a conciliatory expression on her face.

But the office was dark and empty.

"EDI?"

"Shepard?"

"Is Miranda aboard?"

"I cannot detect Operative Lawson anywhere on the Normandy."

"Huh. Thanks for the info."

"You're welcome."

She stood in the door for a moment, not quite sure what to do. She could ask EDI to inform her when Miranda turned up again. But then, she assumed Miranda would be coming back soon, anyway, and it was easier just to wait here.

So she entered, turned the lights on, and stood there for a while. She already felt like she was intruding on Miranda's private space, she didn't feel like sitting down anywhere. But as time passed and Miranda didn't return, standing there grew uncomfortable. Eventually, she decided to sit down on the floor, back resting lightly against the foot of Miranda's bed. And she waited, wondering what to tell Miranda, and why this was so goddamn important to her.

. . . . .

She'd been walking aimlessly around the Presidium Commons for hours. Walking helped to get rid of some of the pent up anger, and she could think more clearly like that, too. There was a part of her that wanted Shepard's approval just as much as she wanted the Illusive Man's. Just as much as she'd wanted her father's, all those years ago. Miranda knew it, and she knew that it was fucked-up, but she couldn't help it. She just hated to disappoint. And she was disappointing Shepard at every corner. And at the same time, she didn't like being pushed. She didn't like the way Shepard got into her head at times. What did she have if she didn't have control of herself, of her life, her decisions, her feelings? Nothing much. That she knew. Ori. But Ori didn't need her, Miranda would be nothing but a burden to her. Ori was living a normal life, a thought that usually brought her peace, but right now it made her want to cry.

She had to return, eventually. With Shepard's words still in her mind, and the way she'd looked at her, sad and disappointed and maddeningly righteous, but also concerned for her, for some reason.

Because she was her commanding officer! Because she was Shepard, and that was the kind of thing Shepard did. It had nothing to do with any kind of attraction between them. And she was a fool to keep entertaining these thoughts.

She all but stomped through the ship, angry with herself, most of all.

But she stopped dead and stared at the sight that greeted her when she entered her office.

Shepard was sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed, arms and head resting on the mattress. Sound asleep. Strands of red hair spilled all over her face, and Miranda closed the door and appoached quietly after a moment. She knelt down next to her and carefully brushed some hair out of her eyes.

"Shepard?" she muttered softly, letting her hand rest on the back of her head.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she blinked up at Miranda, who let her hand sink.

"Hey," Shepard said, sat up slowly and stretched her arms out above her head. "Ugh, not comfortable! Did I fall asleep?" She let her head fall back and rolled it from shoulder to shoulder.

"Apparently. What were you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Why?"

"To apologize."

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"But you meant everything you said."

"It wasn't my place to lecture you. I'm sorry."

"Shepard, I..." Miranda shook her head. "I am just not the woman you want me to be."

She looked away. This was already too much, too intense. She hated it when her feelings got away from her.

"Yes, you are. You may not know it yet, but you are."

Miranda's head snapped back, she glared at her, wanted to reply something, but the look Shepard gave her made fall silent. Vulnerable, and hopeful, and sweet, for god's sake!

"Stop doing that, it's bloody unfair. How is a woman to think when you look at her like that?"

They looked at each other for a long, tense moment, then Shepard got to her feet slowly, cringing at the pins and needles in her legs.

"I should go."

"Wait!" Miranda said, before she could even think about it. Shepard turned to her again and Miranda reached for her arm before she could even think about what she was doing.

"Wait," she repeated. "Why is this so important to you? You can trust me, I'm not going to go against you, Commander."

"I know I can trust you!" Shepard said impatiently, and a little too loud.

"Then what is it?"

Shepard took a step toward her, was very close, all of a sudden.

"Miranda..."

"Shepard."

No kiss before had ever made her feel that way. It was brief and almost chaste, just a small, gentle touch, but it really shook Miranda to the core. Still she pulled the other woman close and requited the kiss, gingerly at first, but gradually deepening it, tongues exploring, starting to caress one another.

"I want you so much, Miranda," Shepard whispered into her ear once they'd broken the kiss.

"I am... interested. Very interested," was all Miranda could say, heart beating hard. Then she grasped Shepard's hand resolutely and pulled her back over to the bed with her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Don't doubt me, Commander." A little of her former cockiness was back in Miranda's voice and smile, and Shepard let herself be pushed onto the bed, Miranda straddling her lap a moment later. Shepard watched as she undid the seamless, almost invisible zip of her uniform, revealing a black lace bra that had Shepard smiling a little, even as she reached out and traced her fingertips over it, feeling Miranda's nipples harden under the touch.

"You're almost ridiculously hot, do you know that?"

"It's what I strive for," Miranda muttered. "Makes people underestimate you, while distracting them at the same time."

"Good tactic," Shepard replied, while her hands moved along the soft, hot skin of Miranda's stomach and sides, pushed under the uniform and peeled her out of it impatiently. It was a bit of a struggle for a moment, not quite as smooth as it had started, Shepard chuckling while Miranda huffed.

"It is a bit tight, though," Miranda admitted, and that made Shepard laugh.

"You think?"

"Oh, shut up."

There was a flutter in Miranda's chest at the banter, the light-heartedness of it. She couldn't quite place the way it made her feel. She tugged at Shepard's clothes instead, revealing a body that was all toned muscles and pale, half-faded scars, generously adorned by freckles. Then she noticed that for some reason Shepard suddenly looked a little unsure of herself.

"They're almost gone. It really depends on the lighting. Up in my cabin I can barely see them."

"The scars?" Miranda asked after a moment, tracing one along Shepard's ribs very gently with her thumb.

Shepard looked up at her.

"Yeah."

Miranda lowered her head, a strange, sad smile on her lips.

"Perfection is intimidating, isn't it? I've learned that early on."

Shepard put her hand on top of Miranda's.

"I am not intimidated by you." She paused, then said lowly: "I still remember seeing your face when I first woke up. After... you know. Dying. Being resurrected. And I was scared, confused, I had no idea what was going on, but you looked at me in a way that told me everything was going to be okay. Even later on, when you were... distant, I remembered that expression on your face. Caring. Warm. I'll never forget that."

"Huh." Miranda felt out of her depth, then said lowly: "I don't know, you were pretty drugged. Are you sure you can trust your memory?"

Shepard just smiled and pulled her down gently, until Miranda lay in her arms.

"Perfect is subjective, Miri. It doesn't depend on your genes or your looks or how smart you are."

Miranda was very still in her arms, face hidden against Shepard's shoulder.

"This moment, for instance," she whispered, letting her fingertips rub up and down Miranda's spine, then come up to caress her head, "this moment, which I didn't dare to dream of for the last weeks... it's absolutely perfect."

She could feel Miranda breathing out heavily, breath warm and slightly moist against her skin.

"No one has ever confused me like you do, Shepard. I've never even been attracted to another woman before."

"I am very honored." Shepard's voice was half serious, half teasing, and Miranda lifted her head and looked at her, then she shifted and kissed her again, gently, smiled as Shepard fumbled with her bra for a moment, before it came off. Her own hands reached down and undid Shepard's pants slowly, slipping inside, bolder than she felt. Shepard made a startled little sound in the back of her throat, then closed her eyes, lips parting.

"That is... you've never done this before?"

Miranda tilted her head to the side, fingers slipping deeper.

"Well, not with someone else..."

"Oh. Right." Shepard grinned and lay back, happy to let Miranda take control. Her pants and underwear soon lay discarded next to the bed, while Miranda explored her with agonizingly slow touches. Lips and tongue on her breasts, and her fingers rubbing and circling between her spread legs, moving lower every once in a while, fingertips slipping into her, out again, moved back to her clit, and god, Shepard thought, she was such a tease. Her breath grew ragged, her hips moved of their own accord, desperate for more friction.

"Please, Miri, I need... more..."

She opened her eyes as she felt Miranda move, her beautiful, smiling face only inches from hers, before their lips met. Miranda's tongue slipped into her mouth, while she pushed two fingers deep into her, curling, moving, making Shepard's hips buckle, thumb rubbing her clit, until she came with a muffled cry. Lay there, panting, Miranda's other hand stroking her hair back from her sweaty face, smiling a rather self-satisfied little smile as she looked down at Shepard.

"That was fast," Miranda said smugly.

"It's been a long time. And you are good."

"I am, aren't I?"

"But there are still lots of things you have to learn."

Miranda raised her eyebrows.

"Oh? Are you going to show me?"

"Oh yes."

. . . . .

"But you know," Miranda said, quite a while later, drowsily stroking Shepard's hair, "your scars tell the story of how resilient you are. You came back to life."

Shepard looked up from where her head was resting on Miranda's stomach.

"I think you just complimented yourself."

Miranda shrugged.

"You'll have to admit I did a great job. Just look at you."

"Heh." Shepard smiled. "Most of the time I feel that way. About the scars, I mean. But sometimes they make me feel vulnerable, too. Reminding me of the fact that I was dead. Not often, though, I just felt self-conscious for a moment there, no one has seen me naked since I... came back."

"Well, let me tell you it's a remarkable body you have there, nothing to feel self-conscious about. It's downright perfect."

Miranda winked at her, but then turned her head away and added softly:

"Here, in this moment. You and me. Perfect."


End file.
